


All the living are dead and the dead are all living

by thereisnolumos



Category: Brave (2012), Disney - All Media Types, Disney - Fandom, Disney Princesses, Frozen (2013), Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hospital, Alternate Universe - World War II, F/M, Hospitals, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-29 11:48:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6373582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thereisnolumos/pseuds/thereisnolumos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is complete bedlam in the hospital – just brought the wounded from the battlefield. There is no place for procrastination and pity right now. She repeats this to herself less and less every day. She used to it. She almost used to it. The war lasts for more than four years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All the living are dead and the dead are all living

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! I'm super exited and even more nervous to post this work. And it's not helping that English isn't my native language. Please, if you notice any mistakes let me know so I cold change them. Enjoy!

“Nurse DunBroch! Come here! Quickly!” the doctor’s loud hail pulls Merida out of her stupor. She hurries to the bed; someone grabs the bandages out of her hands. There is complete bedlam in the hospital – just brought the wounded from the battlefield. There is no place for procrastination and pity right now. She repeats this to herself less and less every day. She used to it. She almost used to it. The war lasts for more than four years.

She was barely eighteen when UK entered the war. Her father went to the front, leaving her mother to care for four kids. Merida went to London to work in the hospital because she couldn’t bear to watch how her mother prays every night that God would bring her husband home, how her brothers, still too young to understand the horror of what is happening, swear to protect them. She needed to go. At least she could help those who fought for peace.

She was the first who saw her father’s body.

She was strong when her mother arrived from Scotland to take him home. Her mother will never finds out about what happened to her when along with wounded and killed they brought her father. She cried over his body the whole night, trying to muffle her sobs and cries that were striving to break out of her chest. Only Emma managed to get her to the dorm. Emma understood.

The hospital was full of those who understands.

Each of them had a story. The path that brought them into this hospital full of wounded soldiers. But Merida didn’t remember all. Just couldn’t. Too much pain and phantom hopes to hoard it all to herself. She has enough of her own. The war seems endless, and Merida hopes with all her heart that her brothers won’t have time to grow up enough to go to the front. She can’t lose them too. 

Merida counts. She iterates through the numbers in her head like some kind of a mantra, strain them through her teeth when her fear and emotions become unbearable. While she’s counting thoughts don’t penetrate into her head and she might coolly change bandages, give injections and hold those poor men who need an amputation but for whom there is not enough anesthetics. In the first days she barfed in the backyard. Spitting bitter bile, she tried to convince herself that she can handle it. Well, she used to it. She counts.

The hospital subsides only by dawn. Although ‘subside’, is not the appropriate description. The moans of the sick and wounded tossing in fever and deliriums don't ever stop here. At least nobody’s screaming, and Merida doesn’t remember that it can be any quieter. Increasingly, she catches herself thinking that she forgets Scottish Highlands, blue sky and green forests. For four years there is only grey from bombing London’s sky over her head, and the same gray street in front of her eyes, full of people living in sick hope. Sometimes she thinks that her hair unforgivably bright here. Sometimes – that this is the only color existing here, the only reminder that life can and should be different.

And the cry full of pain shouldn’t be part of it.

She’s in no hurry. Painful sobs coming from the area with the dead. She can’t help anyone there.

She hates herself for this thought.

Elsa bursts into sobs on the chest of a dark-haired man. Her hands are squeezing his face, she’s kissing him so tight as if she thinks she can save him. As if a kiss could remove any curse and bring a loved one back to life. Merida wants to take away her friend’s sufferings but she can’t make herself to even cross the threshold. She never knew what to say to comfort someone. She just lists the facts.

The doctors didn’t save Liam.

Elsa will never look into her husband’s eyes again. Her husband whom she had waited so much, hoping for the future that was waiting for them. Liam will never know that he had to become a father. 

Merida twists in pain. For shattered destiny of beloved people. For too many losses. She steps back bumping into the wall. She needs a support – her legs refuse to hold her weight. She can’t get enough air into the lungs, only opens and closes her mouth like a fish out of water. 

“Nurse DunBroch, go to the wounded. They need help”

The charge nurse gives orders quietly but imperiously, returning her to the ground. Making her to remember that she has no right to weakness. She should help those who can. She has to. She cannot stand another death now.

***

He has serious wound almost costing him his life. His forehead covered in sweat causing the tangled hair to stick to his face. He rushes around the bed, tearing bandages over and over again, hoarse moans and half-screams burst from his chest. Merida replaces a nurse on duty at his bedside sending a tired girl to sleep. She herself is not even thinking of sleep, she knows that nightmares won’t keep her waiting. No. It’s better to watch over that this miraculously survived man won’t kill himself.

She sat with him all day and all night, carefully but firmly pressing him into the bed when those fever dreams made him to come back to the battlefield again, having time to help other patients in the short periods of silence. He called for someone. Ordered to escape several times and rushed to someone's salvation himself. 

At night Emma in a whisper suggested her to go to sleep. But Merida refused. Sleep wasn’t coming to her and she didn’t really want it to. Yes, she will fall to the ground after but nightmares don’t come to the death tired people. Swan only nods, squeezes her shoulder and continues her path between the beds. Merida follows her with her gaze. She knows exactly why Emma’s staring at the faces of every man lying here so carefully. Not only because she wants to help them. She's seeking. She’s madly afraid and same madly wishes to see a familiar face among the wounded soldiers and officers. 

Killian Jones has been missing in the winter of forty-third. 

For a long ten months, Emma prays to all existing Supreme forces to protect her beloved and bring him back home. Merida had never seen a hope stronger than Emma’s hope for a happy future. Merida has absolutely none left. She just wants to survive and save her family. She has no one to wait from the war and she thinks it’s for the best. Merida doesn’t want to be afraid for anyone. 

***

He awakes only in the night of the second day. The fever still rules over him, but at least he’s able to slightly open his eyes and to wheeze one single word.

“Water…”

Merida gently lifts his head, helping him to moisten his dry throat. He leans back on the pillow with a painful groan – his wound has barely started to heal after a dozen ripped off bandages. She sets the glass aside, while looking at the man. By tense veins in his neck, she realizes that he struggles to clench her teeth, fighting the pain. He swallows hard, healthy hand is clenched in a fist. She applies a towel soaked in ice water to his forehead, causing him to slightly shudder and open his eyes again.

She thinks that she sees the native sky of Scotland, this kind of forgotten blue they are. He looks at her without blinking, as if he sees something more than a tired, exhausted nurse.

“Your hair shines…” his voice is so quite that she thinks she misheard it.

“What?”

“Your hair. It shines. Like the sun” she notices some detachment in his eyes. He’s still somewhere in between dream and reality, and he thinks that the dim light of the lamp behind her is the sun. A weak smile appears on his lips, while she just continues cooling his flushed skin with a towel. Let him think that her hair is the sun, she won’t take away his illusions if they bring him peace. 

“Do you need something?”

“Go on a date with me,” he replies hoarsely, with a smile in the weak voice. Merida only she lets out a chuckle - he clearly does not feel a shortage of the power of his spirit.

“You barely can get up from the bed”

“And when I can?” his gaze becomes clearer when he expectantly looks at her. 

“That's when you can we'll talk. Now, I must change your bandages”

He falls asleep even before she bandages his wound again. She only carries dirty bandages into the laundry and wants to return to the patients, but she begins to feel dizzy. Elsa, noticing her desperate attempt not to fall, sends her to bed. After three sleepless nights, she turns off faster than her head touches a thin pillow.

***

Two days later, she’s at his bedside again. He feels better. The doctor mentioned that he must be really wants to live. Merida doesn’t understand. Merida envies. Merida wants to want it too.

It’s the middle of the night, there is no new wounded, which means that there is relatively quiet in the hospital. She's changing his bandages while he can't stop talking in a quiet voice. He’s telling her about everything at once. That he misses his native Scotland, that he has absolutely horrible old-fashioned name. That he wants to kiss her. 

Her hands twitch, causing a short moan from his chest. She brushed the still-healing wound. 

“It will be a lesson for you. To say less stupid things” 

“You owe me a date anyway. You won’t be able to resist”

“Owe you? I ain’t promised you anything!” Merida almost flattering. Owe, must… People told her what she must and what she mustn’t so many times. She hates those words. And some bear with a blue tattoo won’t tell her what to do.

But he just keeps smiling. And grabs her hand when she’s going to leave.

“You said, when I can get up from the bed”

“But you’re still lying”

“Not all at once, lassie. So, will you go?”

She must say no. She doesn’t need it all. And of course she doesn’t want to go on any date. But there is something in his eyes… He looks at her openly, not averting his gaze and not dissembling. So…

“If I don’t have to carry you on my shoulders back,” she finally squeezes and his eyes light up. It seems like Scotsman’s going to jump out of bed in the same second, but weakness does not allow. 

“You can call me Mac, by the way,” he informs her in the back with a loud whisper. 

***

Two weeks. That’s exactly how long it took for this insufferable Scotsman to appear in front of her absolutely prepared for their walk. 

Emma, it seems, rejoices more than Merida herself. Much more. Emma has an obsessive tendency to worry about others’ happiness. It’s mesmerizing Merida, but also it’s somewhat annoying. Because her happiness is only the happiness of her loved ones. She doesn’t need a happiness for herself, let her mother and brothers to get it. But Emma’s adamant, pushing her out of the room and wishing her a good day. Merida wants to be angry at her, but she can’t. After all, she understands why it is so important for Emma to see that people around her are happy. 

He’s waiting for her at the exit of the hospital. He offers her his elbow, which she wraps with her hands before they start their path. According to all the rules. They walk slowly, he asks her simple questions that easy to answer. As it should be. And then…

Then he starts to make jokes. Switches to Gaelic when he’s too fond of the story. Waves his arms wincing from the pain, but unable to stop. He tells her about his home and asks to tell him about hers. He… Captivates her. Makes her want to talk and listen. 

Merida thinks that she didn’t laugh for more than a year. 

He manages to get her to laugh after only half an hour. 

She comes back in the hospital with a smile on her face. Emma notices and begs to tell her everything. Elsa joins them in the process. The lass is pale more than usual with scary black circles under her eyes. She’s pregnant in the midst of the war, lost her husband, and her sister and nephews are in occupation. Emma and Merida try to help her, but they’re powerless before her grief. Elsa smiles faintly over Merida’s embarrassed story and asks not to forget to invite her on the wedding. Emma laughs, Merida blushes and confusingly justifies that this will never happen. And this gloomy heaviness retreats several steps from them. 

***

It falls on her in one fell swoop after a month. A month that she spent with Macintosh. A month when she didn’t recognize herself. A month, in which she was almost happy. 

He comes late at night. She runs out into the cold wearing nothing but her nursing dress and he instantly pulls her to him, draping his coat on her shoulders. She kisses him the same way as every time – passionately and gently, snuggling up to him. He clasps her with both his arms, clenching her in a hug as if he’s afraid she’ll disappear. They break away from each other only when they run out of air. They gaze into each other's eyes touching each other’s foreheads. And then his words break this warm silence.

“Merida, I'm coming back to the front. The order came today.”

She feels as if she’s hit. She's panting and the pictures of the hospital full of wounded sweep before her eyes. She doesn’t want – she can’t – to give the war another dear to her person. The man she… 

“When?” she interrupts her own thoughts. She doesn’t want to understand what exactly she feels for him. Not when she’s going to lose him. 

“Tomorrow. I came to say goodbye.”

“Yes, I understand…”

“I’ll come back. Merida, do you hear me? I’ll come back, I promise you!” he squeezes her shoulders tighter than necessary, looks into the eyes, which she hides. “I’ll come back to you and we’ll go to Scotland, together. The war will be over and all will be well.”

Merida looks up, facing with inexpressible fortitude and confidence in his such a blue eyes. 

“I’ll come back.”

That’s exactly the same way her father was looking at her mother when he promised her to return from the war.

She’s silent. She’s afraid that if she opens her mouth she’ll start to scream and cry, which she absolutely doesn’t want. She’s strong. She shouldn’t care so much. After all, he’s just…

She pulls a pendant off her neck. 

“Can you do me a favor? Take it. And never take it off,” he’s gazing at her almost without blinking, while she, standing on her toes, puts an amulet on around his neck. A silver circle with three bears engraved on it falls on his chest and she covers it with her hand, “It belongs to my family for many years, centuries actually. We believe it protects us… Don’t you dare to take it off.”

He brings her hand to his lips, gently kissing her fingers.

“As you wish, my Fiery goddess.” 

She’s smiling through still approaching tears. Fiery goddess. He told her that this is exactly what he thought in his delirium when he first saw her. He says that she reminds him of the ancient goddess of legends and myths. She says that he definitely somewhere learned to come up with compliments for lassies. She doesn’t want to lose him so badly…

She has to go back to work. He kisses her again and tears finally roll down her cheeks at the thought that another kiss might never happen. She’s disgusting herself because she can’t be so weak. She mustn’t be. But she can’t help herself. She’s in love.

The thought pierces her like the lightning.

“I’ll write you. I’ll write you as soon as I can,” his fingers are plucking her curls, loosened because of him. 

“Aye, you will. Actually, if you don’t, I’ll find you and kill you with my bare hands. And also I’m a good shot…” she knows really well how pathetic her attempt to hide the fear for him under threats is. But he smiles, leaving one last soft kiss on her lips. 

“I take it.”

***

She never rushed to the postman with all her haste, impatiently waiting if there is something for her. There was no one to write her. Maybe her mother, but Merida knew that she’s safe. Merida could wait. Before.

Because now she is waiting for the boy with envelopes. For a whole year, it seems like if her life depends on whether he’ll bring a letter for her or not. Now she has someone to be scared for. 

Godric’s letters are filled with promises, undying optimism mixed with despair. He imagines their future, which wasn’t promised to them. Assures her that his father would’ve made him marry her after fifteen minutes of meeting. Merida tries not to notice his extremely transparent hints.

She just wants him to come back.

They write each other as often as they can. The letters come out of order, sometimes she’s receiving several at once. She always gets scared when a postman doesn’t bring an envelope with her name written on it with sprawling handwriting. She recalls old prayers and asks all Supreme forces to protect him.

For Merida Godric’s letters are the salvation and the promise. Which her almost-sisters are deprived.

It were February frosts of forty-fifth. People were encouraged by the news from the front. The Germans were retreating. And the postman came to the hospital. 

A messenger boy loudly shouts out the names of the recipients, the letters scatter over the hands. Merida clenches her fists firmly in impatience. Emma and Elsa are beside her. They’re always waiting with her, knowing what it is like, supporting her when the precious envelope is not there. Elsa glances at the clock. She wants to finish her shift quickly, back to her baby son. Young Liam is painfully similar to his father, even now, being only eight months old, but for his mother he is the only and the biggest happiness in this world. Only for him she withstood all the grief fallen on her. 

The blondes smile happily when the treasured letter is in Merida’s hands. Emma squeezes her shoulder in reassuring and supportive gesture. Emma painfully wants to get news from Killian, one word saying that he’s alive and well. For long two years, she looks in the faces of every patient in the hospital trying to see her beloved.

They’re going to get back to work when the boy’s voice literally impales them on the spot. 

“Last letter! For Emma Swan”

The silence actually falls on the room. Almost all nurses and doctors know Emma’s story. Almost everyone understands what this letter means to her.

And Emma can’t budge. 

She’s scared. She’s afraid that it’s not from Killian. She’s afraid that it’s from him. She just can’t believe in it. Elsa has to push her. Her hands are shaking when she accepts the envelope and her legs give way almost instantly when she recognizes florid handwriting. She falls down on the stool standing nearby, her fingers don't obey her when she opens the envelope. Tears are running down her face, but her smile says the most important thing. 

Killian Jones’ alive.

Elsa and Merida exchange happy glances. Because the war is receding. 

***

The station is crowded with people. Others lean out almost to the waist from the arriving train. They've waited too long to wait these extra moments.

Emma and Merida are pushing ahead. They’re looking. Emma seems to be ready to rush on this train because she doesn’t see him. But what a miracle helped him to see her in the crowd and how she was able to hear his voice would forever remain a mystery. 

“Emma!” Killian Jones jumps off the train when it barely reached a platform. He runs to her, unaware of nothing and no one, but people readily let him pass through. Swan herself takes off running, squeezing through the crowd toward the man whom she’s been waiting so much, afraid never to see him again. They fly into each other’s arms and the world fades when their lips meet. Everything is like in the old silly fairytales, which no longer seem to be so for Merida. And her heart shrinks. 

He passes through the crowd like a ram, not straying from the course to her. She looks at him for a long moment before she wraps his neck with her hands and covers his lips with a kiss. He squeezes her waist in a bear hug, lifting her above the ground. Merida knows that she won’t let him go anywhere for a very long time. She knows that he won’t even think to let go of her either. Because everything is over.

Everything is finally over.


End file.
